I'm Not The Only One
by quickssalgron13
Summary: Quinn Fabray married Biff McIntosh thinking her life would be storybook perfect. What happens when it isn't? Will she let Puck take her away? One shot. Based on Sam Smith's I'm Not The Only One video. M for language and smut.


_**So the preview for Sam Smith's new video I'm Not The Only one has been put on itunes yesterday, and y'all should know by now that 1) Dianna has an obsession with him 2) she's starring in this video which I'm so excited for 3) the video is out this afternoon so please support both our Lady Di and Sam by watching the video and buying the Single. I promise you won't regret it. The teaser pictures have the whole fandom freaking out on twitter.**_

_**Ps: I may or may not have put up pictures of Dianna from the video on my instagram which Mark follows so he would see them. What? Dianna looks so hot in her own glamorous, not skanky way, and I figured Mark would appreciate that ;) **_

_**So, this one shot was inspired by the preview in which Dianna looks like a total glamorous badass, despite the fact her husband in the video is cheating on her. I hope you enjoy ;)**_

* * *

_ You say I'm crazy, cause you don't think I know what you've done.._

Quinn Fabray was a successful woman. She was twenty eight years old, gorgeous, married to a very successful businessman named Biff and together they owned the biggest, most expensive house in Los Angeles. Everyone envied her, and she loved it. She loved being the woman people envied again. After Beth, she had lost a little of her confidence, her pride, her coldness. At Yale, she had become the head bitch all over again, and she had met Biff in her second year. She wouldn't say she fell in love with _ him_ exactly. More like the authority dating him had given her. His family were one of the most respected families in all of America, and by dating Biff, she had been handed that respect on a silver plate. Wanted to be respected wasn't a bad thing. Their relationship was more of a business deal than it was love. Biff had liked her beauty, her body, and the fact that she was the most desired woman in all of New Haven whereas Quinn liked his authority and his status. So naturally when he proposed, she had said yes and they were married six months later with a wedding that would put several celebrity weddings to shame.

The glee club hadn't come to her wedding, and part of her was thankful for that. They didn't like Biff, didn't like the woman she had grown into. She didn't want them screwing up the new life she had worked so hard to build herself, either. The only people that had attended her wedding were Mercedes, Kitty and _him._ The man that with one touch had her questioning whether or not she should walk out of the huge cathedral and run away with him.

_"I don't see why people say women get ugly as they age. You're sexier than ever," Puck smirked, leant against the doorframe, his eyes drinking in her body._

_"What are you doing here?" Quinn demanded, letting the ice leak into her voice, continuing to tighten to strings of her corset, forcing her breasts to bulge above the fabric._

_"Like I'd miss your wedding, Fabray," he scoffed, pushing off the doorframe, closing the door behind him and walking slowly to her._

_"If you're here to try to convince me not to marry him, you're wasting your time," she told him, clutching her sundress to her body, feeling too exposed in her corset and tiny white thong._

_"Really?" He asked, coming up behind her, slipping his hands around her and lowering his lips to her neck, sucking lightly on her skin so as not to leave a mark, but enough that it made her moan. "I think I have enough time to change your mind."_

_"No. I'm not changing my mind," she whispered breathlessly, licking her lips to moisten her suddenly dry mouth, feeling every inch of his solid body against her back. She really couldn't help it when she rubbed back against him, her neck tilting to allow him better access._

_"Not even for me?" He murmured, bringing a hand up her side, tugging open the corset she had worked hard to get right, cupping the firm globe of her breast as his other hand slid into her panties._

_"Especially not for you," she breathed, closing her eyes with a moan as he squeezed her breast, her eyes snapping open when he slipped a finger inside her. She really shouldn't be doing this. She should close her legs, refasten her corset and kick him out. But instead, she widened her stance, her body relaxing against his._

_"You don't love him," he mumbled against her throat, tweaking her nipple as he rubbed at her clit quickly, watching her in the mirror as her face filled with pure pleasure. She looked fucking perfect with her eyes closed and her lips parted, her hips rocking against his hand to urge him on._

_"I do," she argued, though they both knew it was a lie._

_"If you love him, why are you letting me finger you?" He asked, his voice husky as he moved his finger faster against her._

_Quinn didn't answer him, as a second later she flew apart, her head turning into his neck, muffling her moans as he let her ride it out._

_"Leave with me, right now. We can run away, just you and me," Puck whispered into her ear, bringing his finger to his lips to taste her. God, she still tasted fucking awesome._

_"I am marrying Biff," Quinn replied, pulling away from him and yanking hard on the strings on her corset, so hard she could barely breathe. Lucky for her, she had gotten used to not breathing these past few years. "And you are leaving."_

_"I love you, Quinn," he confessed. "I wish I didn't, but I do. I love every part of you."_

_Quinn paused for a moment before turning to face him, an evil smile tugging at her lips, and that's when he knew. She wasn't Quinn anymore. Not his Quinn. _

_"I've never loved you," she breathed, pressing her body against his, her lips at his ear. "Not ever. I don't love you, I don't want you. I haven't missed you for even a second, because you're nothing to me. Nothing," she smiled cruelly, pushing him away and turning back to her dresser, hanging her expensive diamond necklace around her neck._

_Puck stared at her for a moment before nodding and leaving her dressing room, taking his seat beside Kitty. Quinn walked down the aisle that day and married Biff, making sure to toss an evil smile at Puck before kissing Biff, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. Her old life was over, and she was a different woman. That was the last time she saw her friends again._

* * *

Quinn opened her eyes with a groan, rolling onto her stomach and stretching out her arm, not at all surprised to find her husband's side of the bed cold and empty. She had been married for almost five years now, and it felt like a lifetime. She could barely remember who Quinn was. She knew herself as Biff's wife, just like the rest of the city did.

She slid out of the bed and crossed the room to her dresser, examining her face. There were no wrinkles in her smooth skin, and she was as beautiful as ever. Most of her friends were married too now, or so she assumed. The last wedding she had been to was Mercedes's and Sam's wedding in Hawaii. None of her friends had spoken to her, not after her husband had found a way to insult each and every one of them. Even Kitty who had once idolized her had nothing to say to her after Biff insulted Artie. Puck hadn't been at the wedding, which had surprised her, as Puck had never been one to miss a chance to meet up with the glee club. Or maybe he just didn't want to see her. That thought left a hollow feeling in her stomach.

Quinn found a crisp white dress and slid into it, carefully pinning her hair up and applying her makeup before heading down the grand staircase. She felt like her mother, and she didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing. As usual there was a note left on the counter, her rings sparkling in the light as she lifted it up to read it.

_Sweetheart, I've been called into work. I'm sorry, I know you wanted to spend time with me today, but I can't put this off. Don't forget the ladies meeting this afternoon at the country club. Appearance is key. Love you. Biff_

Ladies meeting. She felt like an old housewife. Then again, that's what she was these days. A trophy wife to show off at events and to keep up the family appearance and reputation. The old Quinn would have hated this life, but she wasn't that girl anymore. Slipping into her white kitten heels, she opened the huge front doors and walked down the drive to the mailbox, collecting the mail that was as usual, mainly for her husband. Men's business, as Biff called it whenever she asked about the letters or his late night meeting.

"Good morning Mrs McIntosh," her neighbour, Claire, smiled as she collected her own mail. "Don't you think it's a wonderful day? The children love the sun."

"Good morning, I'm sure they do," Quinn replied with a false smile, sorting through the mail, surprised to see she had a letter of her own.

"Say, I could give you a few tips if you're looking to get pregnant. It's really quite easy," Claire offered sweetly, yet Quinn could hear the mocking hint in her voice.

The other wives found it strange that Quinn had no children- at least not that they knee of- and she knew she was often the topic of discussion behind closed doors. The truth was, she really didn't want anymore children. Her daughter was twelve years old, and she hadn't met her yet. She often wondered if Beth would like the woman she had come.

"I'm sure you could, given your seven children, but I don't need tips on getting pregnant. If we wanted a child, we could easily have one," Quinn replied with a sickly sweet smile of her own.

"Oh, well, I hope to see you at the meeting this afternoon. Maisie baked the most wonderful apple pie," Claire beamed, brushing off Quinn's snide remark as they always did. Bitchiness was not ladylike.

"Of course," Quinn smiled before heading back to her house, her heels clicking harshly against the marble floor, the slam of the door echoing through the empty house. Yes, it was furnished with the best money could buy, but it was still empty and she was alone most of the time due to Biff and his demanding job.

She set aside Biff's letters and carried her own to the parlour, excited that she actually had a hand written letter from someone, someone who still cared it seemed. Whoever it was had taken great care with the letter, as it was folded and presented perfectly. Clearly, someone longed to impress her.

_Dear Quinn, or mom I guess, my name is Beth. Your daughter, in case you forgot who I am. I've been looking for you for a few months now, and I found daddy last month. He gave me your full name; my mom never gave me your last name. I don't think she knew it. I want to meet you, mommy. Please. I have so many questions, questions only you can answer. I know you didn't want me, but hopefully you've grown to care about me enough to want to see me too. Please, don't ignore this or shut me out again. Rachel said you probably wouldn't want me, but I know you. At least a little. You wanted me enough to not abort me, right? So you did love me a little. I hope you reply to this. I really need my mom. I love you. Love your daughter, Beth._

Quinn let the letter fall from her hand with a sob, tears rolling down her face. Her daughter had written this, had actively searched for her and asked for contact. Her baby wanted her. She wanted nothing more than to go and get her baby, to touch her, see her, hold her. Her eyes fell back down to the letter, lingering on one word in particular. Mommy. God, she was too sober for this.

* * *

"The usual?" The barman, Joe, asked with a grin as Quinn sat down heavily on a stool with a sigh.

"Vodka. Just give me vodka," Quinn answered, setting her purse down.

"Ladies don't drink vodka," a voice smirked from behind her. A very familiar voice.

"Lucky for me I've never claimed to be a lady," she replied, tossing back her shot of vodka, relishing in the burning sensation. "What are you doing here, Puck?"

"I work here. Well, not here here. I work in Nashville. I'm here as a favour," Puck shrugged, sitting beside her and ordering a glass of Jack Daniels.

She looked as flawlessly beautiful as ever, and he wondered how that was fair.

"Why did you tell her where to find me?" She asked after a long moment, staring down at her drink. If the other housewives knew she came to this bar, she would be the laughing stock of the next meeting and would be kicked out of the group. Nice presentable ladies didn't come to tiny, dirty old bars.

"I didn't. She asked for your name, and did the rest herself. Google isn't hard, Q. I figured the least our daughter deserved was to know her mother's name," he shrugged, sipping his drink. Beth deserved a hell of a lot more than that, but he knew she wouldn't get anything from this Quinn. The old Quinn would have hunted Beth down and broke down in tears to get a letter like that. This Quinn didn't seem to care about anything but her chanel purse.

"Tell her I'm not a good person for her to be around. Tell her that she's better off without me in her life. Tell her I love her, but she doesn't need me," she told him, sliding off her stool.

"No," he argued. "I'm not telling her that."

"Fine. Then tell her I'm a cold hearted bitch and I don't want her," she snapped, snatching her purse up. She hated him and his need to bring out the real her and make her talk.

"Five years since we've seen each other, and this is how it is?" He asked, scoffing and shaking his head.

"We're not friends. We never have been. It would be different if we were, but we aren't," she replied, handing the barman a handful of notes. It wasn't like money was of shortage to her. If she wanted more, all she had to do was bat her eyelashes at Biff.

"Because we mean nothing to each other, right?" He asked, his eyes looking her over quickly.

"Exactly," she nodded. "We mean nothing to each other."

And then she was gone.

* * *

"Hello darling, did I wake you?" Biff asked as he slid into bed beside his wife, noting the way her body shifted.

"No. I was already awake," Quinn lied, turning her head to see him.

"Oh, well, you should get some sleep," he smiled, kissing her lightly before settling amongst the large pillows.

"Or we could have a little us time," she purred, leaning over to kiss his chest, nipping at his skin with a mewl.

"Sweetheart, I'm tired, it's been a long day," he excused, gently but firmly pushing her away.

Quinn stared at him for a moment before nodding and hugging up close to him with a sigh, her arms around his waist as she began to drift back to sleep. She was lonely, and she wanted him to give her some attention for once. She had almost fallen asleep when she felt him slip out of her hold and quietly leave the room.

He was stupid to think she hadn't picked up on the perfume that definitely wasn't hers lingering on his skin when he returned an hour or two later.

* * *

The next morning was the same. Empty bed. Note on the counter. Mail to collect, though this time it was all for her husband. It was the same routine day in and day out. She didn't feel twenty eight, she felt fifty eight.

Quinn headed into her kitchen and grabbed an harmful of dirty laundry, figuring she might as well do something instead of sitting around all day. They had had a housemaid to do all this, but Quinn hated the way she rifled through her things, almost having a heart attack when the maid found her picture of Beth. She fired the maid quickly after that and told Biff she had caught her stealing from them. Her husband didn't know about Beth, or Puck, or any of her past, and she would like to keep it that way. She sighed and stuffed the clothes carelessly into the washing machine, not caring if they tore or ripped. They had more than enough money to replace them anyway. Her rings got stuck on something, frowning as she pulled her hand back, a lacy black thong revealing itself from the pocket of Biff's work pants. That wasn't hers. She didn't wear things like that. Not anymore. Not since she had been with Puck. Why did her husband have underwear that wasn't hers in his pocket?

Maybe he had bought it for her.

The sensible part of her brain knew that wasn't true, but she was just like her mother, and swept it aside, setting the washing machine going. She poured herself a glass of white wine and headed out to sit by the pool, drinking away her sorrows like a true Fabray.

"Hey ma'am, we're here to start on the extension?" Puck asked, carrying his toolbox into her back garden with his fellow workers either side of him, pausing when he noticed it was Quinn by the pool with a glass of wine.

Quinn looked up at them, simply nodding and pointing towards the right side of the house before looking back to the pool, taking a long gulp of her wine. Life just kept getting better and better for her. Not.

"How are you doing?" Puck asked, sitting down beside her as his friends found the blueprints needed.

"I thought you were here to build me a new room on my house, not to make conversation with me," Quinn snapped, her voice ice cold as she looked up at him.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, babe. I just need you to check these blueprints are right before we start," he shrugged, holding them out to her.

"If my husband drew them up, I'm sure they're fine. I'm just a woman, I don't know about this stuff," she smiled, rolling her eyes and taking another long sip of her wine.

"That's not the Quinn Fabray I know," he muttered, nodding to his friends to get started.

"That's because I'm Quinn McIntosh now," she reminded him, wiggling her ring finger, though neither of them needed to think that hard to remember her wedding day.

"Well, I like my Fabray more. She was more fun," he shrugged, getting up.

"Are you saying I'm boring now I'm married?" She scowled, even if it was true.

"If the shoe fits," he teased, pulling wood out of the back of the van. "Is this extension for a nursery? Are you pregnant?"

Quinn looked up at him in disbelief, her eyes wide. "Do I look pregnant?" She demanded, holding her wine glass up.

"I was just asking for safety reasons. We can't use a certain type of paint if you're pregnant and this is the nursery for the kid. It's not safe," he explained, happy that it didn't seem like she was pregnant.

"I'm not pregnant," she told him firmly, Puck nodding and carrying tins of paint over to his friends before heading back, Quinn still sat watching him by the pool in her pretty white housewife dress. She even had the damn pearl earrings to match.

"I don't want another baby," she admitted, watching him pile up his supplies.

"You don't?" He asked, shock evident in his voice as he glanced over at her.

"No. It wouldn't be good for me or for the baby," she sighed, getting up and dusting off her dress, looking up as one of the neighbours walked into the garden, a plate in her hands.

"Quinn, you're looking wonderful," the woman, Elise, smiled sweetly, kissing her cheeks happily.

"As are you, Elise," Quinn replied with a genuine smile. Elise was sweet, genuinely so, and she reminded her a lot of Brittany.

"I brought you cookies," Elise grinned, pressing the plate into her hands.

"Thank you. You know I love your cookies," Quinn lied. They were like rocks, but it was mean to tell her so.

"I heard a rumour about you and Biff. Apparently you can't get pregnant because he's using up his baby juice elsewhere," Elise told her innocently, looking over at Puck with a happy smile. She loved new people.

Quinn inhaled sharply for a moment before forcing a smile on her face, knowing Puck was bound to be listening. "That's not true, honey. I just don't want a baby right now, so we're waiting a little while longer."

"Ok, great! I was just asking cause I heard this girl at a bar saying Biff was really good at-" Elise cut off as Quinn hugged her suddenly.

"Thank you for dropping by, Elise, it was great talking to you," Quinn smiled, giving her the cue to leave. She didn't want to hear it, and she definitely didn't want Puck to.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Elise grinned, kissing her cheek before leaving, her heels clicking against the paved floor.

Quinn waited until she was out of hearing range before throwing her wine glass on the floor, the shattering sound startling Puck who had heard every word. Her husband was cheating on her, and she was trying to brush it aside it seemed. He wondered what could be so damn important for her to stay with him, even though he was a cheating son of a bitch.

"He's cheating on you?" Puck asked, watching her carefully, his heart breaking as a black tear ran down her cheek, smudging her makeup. He longed to wipe her tears away, but she stopped him before he could.

"No, he isn't," Quinn denied, wiping her cheek and shaking her head. It wasn't happening to her. She was Quinn Fabray, who would cheat on her?

"Quinn, that woman just told you he is!" He reminded her, pointing in the direction her friend left in. "He's not working late shifts, he's fucking someone else!"

Quinn stared at him for a moment before licking her lips and nodding. "You need to leave," she told him, her voice eerily calm. He knew that meant she was about to snap. "Now."

"No," he argued, shaking his head. "I'm not leaving you here to wait for your cheating husband to come home."

"I said get out!" Quinn screamed, drawing the attention of the other workers. "Now!"

"Fine," he muttered after a moment, gesturing his friends to leave with him. He looked back at her for a moment, before he was gone.

Quinn stormed into her house in a rage, swinging her arm out and causing several expensive lamps to fall and shatter on the floor. Her husband was cheating on her. The late shifts, the odd perfume, the thong in the laundry, the empty bed. He didn't want her anymore, didn't love her, didn't care about her. And she had nothing. Nothing left, nothing to leave him for, nothing to go back to. She was a toy, a stupid fool of a woman who was most likely the laughing stock of the neighbourhood by now. It hurt. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fell to her knees, a painful sob leaving her lips before she completely broke down, crying loudly and slumping down against the floor. She was just like her mother, and now she finally knew what it felt like to be cheated on.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home," Biff called as he came into the house, closing the door behind him.

Quinn smiled as she came out of the kitchen, taking his jacket and welcoming him home with a kiss.

"How was work?" She asked, flashing him a sweet smile as she hung his jacket up.

"Tiring," he sighed, letting her lead him upstairs to their bedroom.

"Let me help you with that," she breathed, closing the door and unzipping her dress, letting it fall to the floor around her feet, his eyes roaming her body like a piece of meat. Or a toy, she thought, because that's all she was. His play thing.

"Mmm, I missed this," Biff mumbled against her throat as he moved inside her, pinning her wrists by her head and moving faster. He always had to be in control of her.

"If you ever cheated on me, God's wrath would be the least of your worries," she breathed into his ear, feeling him swallow hard against her breast.

"I would never," he murmured, kissing her before he came. Liar. Quinn was thankful for the condom he had put on. She didn't want a baby with him or a disease from him.

He disappeared into the shower not long after, leaving Quinn alone with his phone which she quickly snatched up from the side table, finding his messages, feeling sick to find a sex video on his phone. And it definitely wasn't her with him in the video. He had never allowed her to be on top. Not once.

"Now go home and kiss your wife," the girl in the video whispered as she stilled on top of him.

That son of a bitch.

* * *

"I made you breakfast, sweetheart," Quinn smiled as Biff came down the stairs, straightening his tie in the mirror.

"I'm actually in a bit of a rush," Biff excused, tightening his tie, glancing up at his wife in the mirror behind him.

"Oh, that's fine. Give me a kiss before you go," she smiled, bringing his lips to hers.

"Don't wait up, it'll be a late night again," he warned, kissing her again before leaving.

Quinn waited until his car had left before heading out to her own, starting the engine and driving after him. She needed to see for herself what he was doing. Who he was doing.

His car was parked outside of one of her friend's houses, and she pulled up across the street, her eyes drawn to the bedroom window where it was clear to see her husband kissing her friend. Kissing her like he had never kissed his wife. Quinn knew then that it was real, he was having an affair.

She drove away in tears, stopping only to buy a large bottle of whiskey and some lighter fluid before heading home. She felt crazy, and maybe she was. But he wouldn't get away with hurting her like this.

* * *

"Puck," Quinn called, stepping out onto the deck, watching Puck painting the wood of the new guest bedroom. He hadn't really spoken to her since she kicked him out, but she could always feel his concern when she came home drunk, or in tears, or both.

Puck looked up at the sound of her voice, setting aside the brush and heading over to her, offering her a smile. He knew she was having a hard time, but he also knew she wouldn't let him comfort her.

"What's up?" He asked, looking her over. How was it she still managed to look sexy and beautiful in those little housewife dresses?

"Come inside," she smiled, nodding her head towards the house before heading inside, her heels clicking against the marble floor. He followed her, just as she hoped he would.

"This is nice," he offered, looking around the huge house. In all honesty, he didn't like it at all. It wasn't Quinn, or at least not the Quinn he knew.

Quinn didn't answer, pulling him close and kissing him instead, moaning at the warmth that instantly spread through her body at his touch, gasping as he pushed her up against the wall, their tongues thrusting against each other hungrily, his hand finding her ass and squeezing. He wasn't going to question her; she felt too good to reject, and he had missed her. Her arms wound tight around his neck as he pressed against her, their mouths hungry to taste and explore each other. Quinn moaned loudly as he kissed her neck, lifting her leg to hook around his waist and pull his hips to hers, closing her eyes as he sucked on her neck, his hand cupping and squeezing her breast. She wanted him. No, she needed him.

"Fuck me," she breathed, grinding her hips up against the solid bulge pressed against her thigh, letting her head fall to the side, encouraging his work on her neck.

He didn't need asking twice.

They spilled into her bedroom, mouths attacking each other greedily, his hands yanking open her dress. Quinn slammed her phone down on the table to record them, to make her own video, her hands tugging open his jeans as she fell back on the bed, Puck tearing her dress from her body. His hands were everywhere, grasping at her ass, kneading her breasts, thrusting in and out of her heat. She couldn't control herself with him; everything felt too good. She wanted more of him, of his touches and kisses. Their clothes lay in tatters around the room, Quinn crying out his name as he spread her legs and thrust inside her, his face in her neck. It was too good for them.

"You ok, baby?" He asked against her throat, his cock moving slowly inside her whilst she adjusted. He figured her husband's cock was tiny, as Quinn looked about ready to come already and he had only just entered her.

"Mmmm, you feel so good," she breathed, her legs tight around his waist, smirking up at him before she flipped them, sinking back down onto him with a moan of pure pleasure. His hands came up to tug the pins from her hair, letting the blonde waves fall around her face as she rocked her hips greedily against his. She looked like a fucking angel on top of him.

They came far too quickly the first time, Quinn's breasts bouncing as she rode him forcing him to the edge while he drove her crazy sucking on her breasts. He wanted her, she could see and feel that he wanted her, moaning with every hot blast of his come inside her. She collapsed down against his chest with a moan of his name, eagerly tasting his lips in another greedy kiss.

"Again," she breathed, kissing him, stroking her fingers through his hair. His hair turned her on like crazy, especially when she felt it brushing against the inside of her thighs whilst he licked and sucked at her. He didn't need her to ask him twice.

Puck threw her down onto her back and resumed slamming into her, the blonde taking every thrust with a moan or gasp of his name. She turned her head towards her phone when she felt herself coming again, screaming out his name, her hips bucking up at him desperately for more.

"I love you," he murmured against her throat as he filled her up.

And that's when she made him leave. He couldn't love her. She wasn't made to be loved by anyone.

* * *

That night when she found receipts for expensive dinners stashed beneath their bed, she comforted herself with the fact that she had her own lover, someone to love her and want her. She wasn't weak. She wasn't her mother, and so that night when he came out of the shower, she confronted him about everything.

"I know you're cheating on me," Quinn told Biff with a smile, perched in the middle of the bed, holding up the thong with an arched brow.

"What? No, baby, I bought that for you," Biff lied, drying off his hair.

"Really? Did you buy it for me when you were out spending six hundred dollars a meal?" She demanded, throwing the receipts at him.

"Business meals, Quinn. You're making things up in your head, darling," he sighed, closing the curtains.

"You're a liar. I know you've been fucking Stacy, I saw you," she spat, glaring at him.

"Stacy is merely a receptionist, sweetheart. I'm going for a drink, I'll speak to you later when you're not creating these stories in your head," he told her before grabbing his keys.

Quinn simply sat there and watched him leave, looking down at her hand before tugging her rings off, throwing them at the wall. She wouldn't ever wear those things again. She wanted revenge. Grabbing an arm full of his clothes, she made her way calmly down the stairs and outside tossing them carelessly in the middle of the drive before grabbing the lighter fluid from her car, tossing that and a match onto the pile, watching her husband's clothes go up in flames. Fuck him, and fuck the neighbours that came out to see what she was doing.

A car pulled up at the end of the drive and for a moment she thought it was Biff, until warm, strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her away from the flames. She knew those arms. Those arms had held her on too many occasions for her to not recognize them. Of course he would be here.

"You were right, Puck," she breathed, staring at the flames. "He's been having an affair."

Puck was silent for a moment before he turned her in his arms to face him, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I never stopped loving you, Q. Not for a second."

Quinn studied his eyes for a moment before stroking his cheek and resting her forehead against his. "Take me with you, wherever it is you're going."

"Lets go," he said simply, taking her hand in his.

"Just like that? You're letting me come with you just like that?" She asked, looking up at him, the flames roaring behind her, swallowing up her marriage.

"Yes," he nodded. He would always take her with him.

Quinn smiled and let him lead her to his car, pausing before running back into the house, grabbing Beth's letter from beneath the floorboard in the hall. She couldn't leave her baby behind. Not again. Neighbours were crowded by the gates, watching her, watching Puck. She didn't care what they thought of her anymore. She wasn't one of them. She never had been. And so she felt no regrets at all when she tossed a match into the living room that she had previously soaked in lighter fluid.

Don't fuck with a Fabray.

* * *

Quinn and Puck were halfway down the highway before she spoke up, her hand holding his tight in hers. She had taken his hand when he started the engine, and hadn't let go yet.

"Did you love me?" Quinn asked, staring down at the envelope in her lap. Puck had encouraged her to write back to Beth, and it had turned into a small novel rather than a letter, but she knew Beth deserved to know everything. She had also enclosed Puck's address, telling her baby she was welcome to visit her whenever she was ready.

"Yes, especially now," Puck smiled, squeezing her hand. Because he did love her, and he always had, and he knew he always would.

And for the first time in twenty eight years, she knew somebody loved her.

"I love you, too."

Because she really, truly did.

_But when you call me baby, I know I'm not the only one._

* * *

**_Song lyrics used: Sam Smith- I'm Not The Only One_**

**_Please review, and don't forget to support Dianna and check out the video this afternoon :)_**


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